The Cat of 221B Baker Street
by SherlockDW2013
Summary: John Watson picks up a Cat from the Street and Sherlock is displeased...
1. New Member to the Family

Sherlock gazed through the microscope intently as John came in, soaked to the bone. Sherlock took no notice to him as he dumped soaking bags onto the table; he raised an eyebrow and looked up as he saw a small kitten in John's arms.

"What are you doing with that?" he asked

"It was sitting in the rain, I couldn't just leave it."

"Yes you could."

"Shut up"

"You are not keeping it."

"Sherlock, this is my flat to, so I'm keeping it whether you like it or not" Sherlock walked towards Watson and plucked the cat from his arms. He held it by the scruff of the neck and inspected it closely. John's phone rang

"Jeez, I need to go; something at the clinic's come up. Leave the cat alone and no Experiments!" John shouted and slammed the door. By then Sherlock had put the cat down and continued with his work. The cat simply sat there staring with its emerald green eyes, he looked up and looked at the cat

"Are you interested with this?" he asked the cat which meowed in reply "Would you like me to explain?" the cats eyes flickered with intelligence as Sherlock explained the Test

"You remind me of a close friend…" Sherlock mutters "Hmmm…" since he had begun to take a small likening to the cat; it was worth giving it a name

"Argon?" the cat rolled its eyes and licked its paw

"Xenon?" the cat didn't show any interest but a thought struck him

"Hamish?" the cat's ears pricked up and it purred "Hamish it is."

By the time John got home it was late in the evening and he imagined that Sherlock would still be doing his experiments, so he didn't bother being quiet as he entered the house. He froze as his gaze lifted itself to the couch, Sherlock sat sleeping on the sofa with his head lolled back and the cat sat on his lap, sleeping intently. John smiled inside at the sight before him he gingerly picked up the cat and draped a blanket over Sherlock then placed the cat back on his lap. John later went to bed and fell asleep with a grin plastered onto his face.

The next morning John opened his eyes to nothing but blackness, he frowned and lifted his hands to his eyes. All he could feel was soft fur and then it hit him. It was the cat. John shrieked and Sherlock bundled into the room and lifted the cat off John's face.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked with amusement

"T-Th…"

"I'm sorry?"

"Th-The cat…"

"Well done. Your skills are getting sharper by the week"

"Was on m-my face."

"I could see that."

"B-But on my _face_ Sherlock! It could have bloody taken a _crap_ on me!" Sherlock looked at the cat but it merely stared at him with innocence.

"Nonsense! Hamish wouldn't do such a thing! Would you Hamish?" Sherlock pouted and stroked Hamish who purred with pleasure

"Oh for- Wait, hang on. Did you just call the cat _Hamish_?"

"Yes I did. I find the name rather fitting don't you?"

John sighed in annoyance. This was going to be a _long_ day…


	2. The Mouse

"Johnnnn…" Sherlock whined from the kitchen and John sighed

"What Sherlock? I'm busy"

"Do you know where Hamish is?" Sherlock walked into the living room

"No."

"I haven't seen him since yesterday evening." Sherlock pouted

"Maybe he's had enough of you…" John muttered

"I heard that!" Sherlock said sharply "Besides, who was the one who brought him to good ol' Baker Street?" John sighed

"Ugh. Me…"

"And who was the one who wanted to keep him?"

"You." Sherlock paused

"Oh. Of course… Just help me find him!"

"Nope."

"But why…?" Sherlock moaned

"Because he's your cat."

"He's technically yours as well." John looked up and saw Sherlock's lip quivering like a kid would if he wanted something and his eyes looked as if they were close to tears.  
"Oh for- Fine! I'll keep an eye out for him" Sherlock's child face evaporated and he grinned wickedly

"Good! Because I'm going to the morgue!"

"Wait, hang on!" but Sherlock was already gone. John sighed and tapped in his laptop, his phone rang and he looked the text

_10:25 AM  
Found him yet? SH _John replied

_10:25  
Nope I've been searching everywhere JW_

10:26  
Shame SH

10:26  
Yeah JW

10:30  
You haven't taken him to the animal Sanctuary have you? SH

10:31  
What? No! Why would you say that? JW

10:31  
Don't know but it sounds like something that you would do. SH

10:32  
What on Earth are you two talking about? MH

10:32  
Dammit Mycroft! Stop tracking our texts! JW

10:32  
This conversation is private SH

10:33  
Not anymore MH

10:33  
I swear to God Mycroft, leave now or- I don't know! I'll do something! JW

10: 34  
I'd like to see you try MH

10:35  
Fine! How about this conversation becomes something a lot different than a chat between friends? JW

10:36  
I'd like to see where this is going SH

10:36  
You wouldn't dare. MH

10:37  
Oh I would. Remember that time when Sherlock was drugged by Irene Adler? And he was rambling on like a lunatic? Well, it took all of my willpower not to jump on him then and there, while he was vulnerable. JW

10:38  
Dear God John. I never knew you could go so low… I like it. SH

10:39  
And you know what? JW

10:39  
John Hamish Watson! Cease this conversation immediately! MH

10:40  
Full name Mycroft? You're not my big brother JW

10:40  
Good one John. SH

10:40  
Leave this Conversation now before I do worse. JW

10:41  
Fine! Fine! MH

10:42  
Hello? JW

10:43  
Mycroft? SH

10:43  
Wow, I guess he is gone. JW

10:43  
Anyway back to Hamish. SH

10:45  
What about him? JW

10:45  
Have you found him yet? SH

10:46  
I've told you already, I've tried really hard to find him. JW

10:47  
No you haven't SH

10:47  
How would you know? JW

10:48  
Turn around SH

John did as he was told and shrieked at Sherlock who was standing directly behind him.  
"Bloody Hell Sherlock!" John exclaimed as he toppled off the sofa. Sherlock chuckled as he helped John to his feet

"Why can't you ever be normal?"

"Because normal is boring."

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to know that you haven't moved a limb since I left" John's cheeks flushed  
"You didn't leave at all did you?"

"No I did not."

"God. Why'd you do that anyway?"

"It was an experiment. Anyway I'm going to make a cup of tea do you want one?"

"Yes please." Sherlock walked into the kitchen and hummed to himself as the tea boiled. John heard a scraping at the door and he frowned. He got up and opened the door, his brow furrowed as nobody was there. He heard a soft purring and looked down to see Hamish scraping against his legs. Hamish was soaking wet and water was dripping onto the carpet.

"There you are Hamish." John said with a smile  
"Sherlock's been looking for you everywhere." The cat seemed to had something in its mouth as it entered the flat, it made a wet paw print every time it took a step  
"What's that?" the cat looked at John with green eyes and jumped onto the table and dumped the contents of its mouth on it. John frowned and looked at what it was; as he got closer his face went green.

It was a dead mouse.

John squealed in horror and recoiled away; then Sherlock burst into the room  
"What's wrong John?! Has something happened to Hamish?" John glared at his friend for not noticing his pale face but replied nonetheless

"O-On the t-table…" he stammered. Sherlock looked at the cat as it brought the corpse of the mouse in front of John he squealed again and backed away slightly. Sherlock chuckled

"I think he likes you." Sherlock smirked

"Shut up Sherlock."


	3. The Cat of 221B Baker Street

John quietly tapped on the keyboard of his laptop while stroking Hamish on his lap, it had been almost a week since the 'mouse' incident and Sherlock was away at the morgue. Suddenly, the door was nearly flung off its hinges

"We have a case!" Sherlock cried with delight "2 Homicides!" Hamish jumped off John's lap and into Sherlock's arms

"Hello, Hamish! How was your day with John? Was it boring? I bet it was boring." Sherlock stroked the cat affectionately, it purred and rubbed against Sherlock's chest "Do you want to come with us on the case?" the cat's ears pricked up, it tilted its head and meowed.

"I think that's a yes." John said and got up to put on his coat

"I don't think Lestrade will be happy with you taking a cat to a crime scene."

"Hamish will be a good boy. Won't you?" the cat rubbed against Sherlock. "Yes you will."

It was decided that Hamish would come along for the case. When they did arrive Sherlock and John got weird looks off practically everybody,

"Oh, look" Sally had said "Freak's got a pet." Sherlock had merely ignored her. As they entered the building Hamish struggled in Sherlock's arms, it climbed into his shoulder before calming and settling there.

"Comfortable there are we?" Sherlock mused and Hamish meowed. Lestrade appeared

"Ah, there you are, the bo- What the hell is that?" Lestrade looked at Hamish

"It is a cat." Sherlock said simply

"I can see that. But what the hell is it doing on your shoulder –and more importantly- at a crime scene?"

"Do you want me to solve this murder or not?" Sherlock sighed

"Of course I do, but not with a flippin' _cat_ on your shoulder."

"What's wrong with Hamish?" Sherlock pouted

"Gentlemen, please." John butted in "Lestrade, just let the cat in, otherwise you'll be arguing for the whole day."

"Fine…" Lestrade gave in and led the pair to the crime scene. Lestrade gave Sherlock all the information he needed and let him deduce the rest. Hamish jumped off Sherlock's shoulders and circled the body for himself.

Sherlock inspected the body closely and ignored Hamish. The body was a woman, her hair was blonde, dyed. No ring on finger, Single. Nails half painted, forced to leave. Sweaty palms, held at gun point. Sherlock muttered points out as he looked at the body. The woman had a bullet wound to the back, close range.

"It's clear the woman was shot dead at point blank range. She's single, dyed blonde and held at gun point as she was escorted here, she's middle aged, most likely 45 or 46. Do you know her name?"

"No, we hadn't managed to find anything on her." Lestrade stated and Hamish mewled softly and shimmied under the couch of the room.

"Hamish, get back here!" John sighed and crouched next to the sofa. Hamish emerged a minute later with something in his mouth. "What on Earth?" Sherlock plucked it from Hamish and inspected the card; it was the Woman's I.D.  
Sherlock smiled and picked up Hamish

"Her name is Claudia Brussels, she's 46. No children." Lestrade looked at Hamish who held his head up proudly.

"Good boy…" Sherlock whispered and stroked Hamish. "You truly are the cat of 221B Baker Street."


	4. Jumpers

After Hamish had dumbfounded the whole department with his discovery, Sherlock and John decided to order Chinese and but a deluxe batch of food and treats for Hamish. Sherlock and John sat on the couch and ate quietly as they watched TV. Hamish was on Sherlock's lap, purring loudly, and content with its meal. Sherlock looked down and stroked the cat who mewled in pleasure

"Did you enjoy your meal?" the Detective asked to the cat with a voice that was usually reserved for babies or pets.

"God, Sherlock…" John sighed

"What?"

"Out of all the time I've known you; I have never heard you talk like that."

"Like what?"

"In a pouty-baby voice"

"I did no such thing. And who's a good boy?" Sherlock looked back to Hamish as it began nibbling on his fingers.

"Can you even listen to yourself?" John chuckled and stood up. He cleaned away the plates and walked to the kitchen. John rolled up his jumper sleeves and began washing until he heard Sherlock calling for him 5 minutes later

"Uh… John?"

"Yes Sherlock?" he sighed as he rubbed the dishes clean

"I think you might want to come here…"

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know…" came the reply "Just come and look?"

"Let me finish the dishes Sherlock."

"Perhaps the dishes can wait?" John rolled his eyes and dried his hands before walking into the living room

"What's the ma-" he stopped mid-sentence as he glanced at the room around him. Sherlock sat on the couch with an uneasy look; he was wrapped loosely in a beige coloured thread, as was almost every surface in the room.

"Sherlock…" John started "What happened?" Sherlock smiled hesitantly

"Hamish happened?" John noticed his favourite-beige- jumper on the floor except most of it was merely string, string which decorated the flat's living room

"Are you telling me Hamish did this?"

"Yes." John sighed and made for the remnants of his beloved jumper but something snagged both his feet, causing him to fall over and land –face first- on the carpet.

"What on Earth?" he looked to his feet which he realised was also wrapped tightly in thread.

And, next to his feet, was a, very proud looking, Hamish. His emerald eyes glittered with mischievousness; he had a string hanging from his mouth. John looked to Sherlock and said\

"You're _so_ getting me a new jumper."


End file.
